


it felt like years

by orphan_account



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Catwoman (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, based on Batman #40, batcat!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 20:59:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Bruce comes back home to his fiancée after 37 years fighting monsters.(based on Batman #40 ending)





	it felt like years

They land on her couch with a soft thump and his lips are on her neck, his hands fisting her short hair and she does her best to shift so that he’s lying between her legs. She notices the frantic and possesive feeling of his movements, his hands roaming all over her body. She feels that bulge, growing bigger against her with every passing second—pressed at just the right angle between her legs. She unbuckles his belt and he unzips her costume, and she feels the heat of his chest so clearly now the sturdiness of his erection as his hips undulate above her and the image of him shimmying in just his black briefs fills her head and she knows exactly what the motion looks like and grins into his lips.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, almost breathless.

“Nothing’s funny—just good,” she whispers and kisses him again, wrapping her legs around his waist so that he carries her with him as his hips rock above her, and oh—she’s getting carried away, carried away by all of this, by the warmth of his chest, the pounding of her pulse in her ears, the taste of him, the taste from one person alone and not from everyone and oh—his mouth tasted fine. So very fine, and his lips moving over hers, moving with hers, nipping at her top lip, then at her bottom, then snaking his tongue into her mouth and massaging hers, probing her mouth as though he needed to taste every corner of it—that is more fine than she could even articulate and she moans into his mouth. She feels his lips quirk into a grin.

“What’s so funny?” she asks.

“Nothing, I just missed you,” he whispers and kisses her again, first on the lips, then sweeping across her cheek, up her hairline, down her nose, over her eyelids and all she can do is try and reach his neck with her lips, press a kiss to his adam’s apple as it bobs just above her. She presses her pelvis up against his, her legs tightening around his hips and slides her hand down his chest. She takes off the shirt of his suit, which she reminds herself probably have to be washed.

“You were barely gone for a couple hours,” she teases him.

“Funny, it felt like years,” he replies and she chuckles, pressing her lips to his.

“Oh, you’re asking for trouble,” he whispers.

“I like trouble," she retorts and there they are again—those blue eye that don’t seem blue right now because it’s dark in her living room but they’re still lighter than black and, to prove her point, she kisses him and lets her fingers trail in the grooves of his muscles.

Quicker than she could have imagined, than she wanted to believe, he sits up—sits them both up and she lets out a startled cry that makes him grin again. His hands are resting on her ass kneading into her underpants, gently lifting her so that her cunt is rubbing right up against—ah fuck—and her eyes are rolling into the back of her head because that feels amazing. He moans and buries his face against her neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin. He lifts his hips slightly so that she rubs once more up the length of his cock. 

She drops her lips to his nipple and scrapes her teeth over it, sucking it, drawing it into her mouth then circling her tongue over it. She kisses her way down his body, licking his abs and reaching his pelvis she grins rubbing his cock.

“You’re evil,” he mutters.

She smiles again and takes his dick out of his briefs. She relaxes her throat muscles and takes him in until her nose was buried in the dark, wiry hair at the base of Bruce’s cock, swallowing around the head down the back of his throat, breathing through her nose, smelling the hot, musky, spicy scent of his lovers arousal. Bruce gasped in surprise, not expecting the sudden burst of bliss, he tightens his grip on Selina’s hair , moaning shakily as she continues to work his perineum and started a smooth, sucking rhythm.

If he had, after all, been thirty-seven years without her, she was going to make the wait worth it. She ran her tongue along his shaft and sucked the tip, hearing him moan and thrust his hips forward. Her hands cupped his balls as her mouth worked on the tip. She took him all inside her mouth, her head bobbing around his cock. Bruce cursed under his breath and held Selina’s neck with one of his hands. She could taste the pre-cum on her tongue, making her suck him harder and faster, her hands working up and down his shaft.

Before he can cum he lifts her face to kiss him and a moment later he has three of his fingers in her cunt, curling into her as he pumps them in and out while his thumb finds her clit. “Oh,” she manages to say before her body seems to heat up and melt, her mind going hazy in the warmth of her blood racing through her, her heart beating faster and faster in her chest as Bruce’s thumb circles, as his fingers straighten and curve and press and prod at her. She closes her eyes, and exhales shakily as he pumps away, letting her mouth hang open slightly.

Then, his fingers are gone and she makes a plaintive huff even as she feels his hands on her ass again. The fingers on her left cheek are damp—slick and she smiles because she knows that that means the pressure she feels just outside her entrance now is his cock and when he thrusts in, she yelps slightly—not because he needs reminding of how big his cock is, but because she likes reminding him.

She stretches around him, feeling that, even inside her, his cock tilts slightly to the left—or maybe that’s just the angle he entered in. It hardly matters. What matters is that he’s there, that he’s inside her now, and that his breath—both of their breath—is shallow and wanting and that as he pumps into her, her heart pounds every time his cock pulls out and pushes in, sending a familiar and sweet pain from her cervix to her clit. And every time he strikes that back wall, gently, still, because he knows that it twinges, knows that there’s a fine line between the right kind of pain and the wrong kind, she realizes just how neglected that little nub of flesh feels, because Bruce’s hands are on her ass, and sometimes his balls swing up and strike her clit, but for the most part, it’s throbbing there, wanting, stiff, aching, needing…

“Bruce,” she moans. “Bruce—I—“

“Hm? What is it?” he grunts, and he pauses in his thrusting. Gingerly, Selina pulls away from him and when she turns around, she sees nervousness in his eyes. She’s never once stopped him. She sits up and pulls his head down and kisses him, and his tongue is in her mouth almost at once, as though needing to make sure she’s all right. She smiles into his lips and reaches for his cock, guiding it to her entrance again, then reaching for his hips and pushing him back in. She sighs.

“I just want to see you,” she whispers, and the smile on his face makes her feel like she’s floating because it’s so sweet, so lovely, so innocent and surprised and happy and horny and everything she wants and when he begins his pumping again, she reaches up and twists her nipples, cups her breasts, lets him watch the way that her breasts bounce on her chest as he thrusts into her, following the movement of his eyes with her own. And no—his cock is not hitting her at the same angle as before, but that hardly matters because before she reaches casually between her legs as had been her plan, he has two fingers on her clit, and everything is warm—hot again as she lets her head fall back onto the cushions of her couch, her back arched now because it can’t not be with her ass planted on the armrest of the chair, and lets the muscles of her cunt stretch and clench around his cock as he slides in and out of her, grunting, moaning, spurting hot cum into her as he groans and stiffens, his eyes screwed up and his face contorted in pleasure.

She likes this moment, when they’re both wrapped in bliss, their slick bodies pressed together, hearts beating as one.

She sits up, kissing his chest as she feels his heat inside her, spreading into every part of her. She licks a bead of sweat off his chest, and when he pulls out of her, he bends down and buries his hands in her hair as their mouths meet in a slow kiss, a deep kiss, the sort of kiss that would take Selina’s breath away if she had any breath left in her body. He kisses his way across her cheek, down her neck and to her collarbone and only then does he ask, “What do you want?” His thumb is circling around her clit, and she aches—aches because everything is swollen and wet and hot and wanting and she doesn’t know what she wants beyond wanting Bruce to make her cum so hard she screams.

“Surprise me,” she whispers and she hoped he had a long time to think about this. What he would do to her when he returned home. 

He pushes her back onto the couch, kneels next to her and takes one of her tits into his mouth, nibbling and sucking at the peak of her nipple as he palms her cunt. She bucks her hips into his hands and he releases her nipple and keeps his hand still.

Selina opens her eyes, and he’s watching her, a curious expression on his face. Then he gets to his feet, pushes her further along the couch so that her hips are flat and not raised up on the armrest, and buries his face in her cunt. It’s not a gentle licking either—not sweet or exploratory, or teasing—his tongue is hard against her clit, quick, stiff, circling and—fuck she wasn’t prepared for that, he’d had—his hand—it hadn’t been—it wasn’t focusing quite like—Jesus. 

It hits her too fast, too unexpectedly, wave upon wave of warmth flowing through her as her cunt clamps around nothingness and her clit throbs in Bruce’s mouth. As if it’s an afterthought, she feels him guide a finger inside her and she grips it as she sinks into the couch, losing all sense of anything except the feel of the tweed under her back, Bruce’s lips on her clit, and the clutching of her cunt to his finger.

When it’s over, she curls over sideways to look at him, her eyes hooded and dry with tiredness.

“I missed you too,” she murmurs. 

“I was gone for just some hours.” 

“Well, it felt like years,” she says kissing him slowly.


End file.
